


Quand on a pas ce que l’on aime, il faut aimer ce que l’on a

by Ragingstillness



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bonding, Cute plus angst, F/M, Found Family, Idk exactly where this is going I'm kind of just providing backstory, then following canon, then running from there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingstillness/pseuds/Ragingstillness
Summary: The title is a French proverb that means: When one doesn’t have the things that one loves, one must love what one has.This story is a bit of an AU running alongside the main canon storyline but focused on the Agreste family.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poppicock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppicock/gifts), [hchano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hchano/gifts).



    It started with something very simple. 

    “Hey Nathalie, could you hold Adrien for me?” 

    One question and then she had an armful of fluffy blonde child, precariously crushing her notepad and the various writing implements she rapidly shifted out of the way to avoid dropping the baby. 

    A cooing noise caused her to look down and meet what might have been the greenest gaze she’d ever seen. Nathalie shifted him a little so she could see him better. 

    As an only child in a secluded neighborhood, she hadn’t spent much time around babies or met any small children in her youth. And now suddenly one had been foisted upon her, Mme. Agreste needing the arm space to make yelling at her stubborn husband more dramatic. The noise of which Nathalie was thoroughly blocking out. 

    Nathalie continued to stare at Adrien, marveling at him. Her logical brain was whirring, confusion and curiosity at war for her attention. He was just _so_ small. Even with her glasses on she could barely make out the tiny nails on his pinkies. His body was barely three times the size of his head and his eyes, they were so large in his face, and again, _so_ green. How did his tiny neck support him? She didn’t understand! 

    While she seemed to be blocking out the argument in front of her easily, Adrien wasn’t having the same luck. As Nathalie watched, that little pale nose scrunched up and his eyes crinkled, the warning signs of crying if there ever were any. 

    Terrified, Nathalie did the first thing she could think of: curling Adrien close enough to her chest that she could place both hands over his ears. 

    He startled for a moment then slowly the creases smoothed from his face and his eyes even half lidded. Little did Nathalie know, that was the first of many times she would protect the Agrestes from themselves. 

    Flash forward a couple of months and the mood in the house had improved immensely, mostly because of Adrien. He was at that age where everything was a first: first words, first steps, first tantrum after a fall. And Mme. Agreste wanted to be there for every single one of them, showering Adrien in care and occasionally wrangling her husband in to watch. It was a complete switch from the fighting that had plagued the household for as long as Nathalie had been there. 

    After that initial request, Nathalie had lost count of the amount of times one or the other Agreste had left Adrien in order to yell at each other about something and Nathalie, usually tripping along behind one of them with a schedule, bent to scoop Adrien up like she was picking up a purse before going out. It had created a weird dynamic to be sure, the losing parent turning away after the argument and taking Adrien from Nathalie’s arms with a soft, “oh, thanks Nathalie.” 

    When she was alone in her apartment at night, Nathalie couldn’t help but wonder how this all would affect Adrien’s perception of the world and how damaging it would be if it got out that Adrien’s first word had not been “Mama,” as they thought, but a quiet, “Nat,” giggled out in between pulling her hair out of her bun. 

    Once Adrien’s storm of firsts had passed the household regressed to their previous ways and then worsened. M. Agreste was always working, making the family’s fortune, and had little time for his son, while Mme. Agreste was starved for excitement as far as Nathalie could tell, wishing she could go out with friends instead of being a mother. Where did this leave Nathalie? Stuck in the middle with nowhere to go, trying to serve M. Agreste as she was paid to but thrown from side to side in the arguments as they exploded. 

    In this way Adrien was the same as her. When the volcano and the tidal wave decided to do battle, Nathalie picked up Adrien and together they rode the damage of the aftershocks. 

    Even if she wanted to pick sides, it wouldn’t be easy. She couldn’t deny that M. Agreste could bear to let his company sit for a while and take care of his son, but in some arguments she understood that he had already spent a couple of hours away from work and his wife couldn’t just vanish until three the next morning with no explanation and expect someone to care for her two year old son. Especially if that someone ended up being Nathalie. She wasn’t being paid to babysit. 

    In summation, she was almost constantly frustrated with both of her employers and getting tired of the nagging desire to buy parenting books because of how much time she was spending with Adrien. 

    She could only bear either of the parents at important points in the year. 

    Mme. Agreste was tolerable after spa days when she felt fulfilled and didn’t complain a lot. It was then that Nathalie could glimpse the intelligent, pleasant woman beneath the outward annoyance. 

    And M. Agreste was quite entertaining in the days after a new fashion line was launched. He got a little punch drunk on his own success and the creative spirit that had filled his veins throughout the design process. During this period he was more likely to spend time with Adrien and even take his wife for a couple spins around the ballroom. He had even grabbed Nathalie once when Mme. Agreste was too tired to dance, and instead sat on the side, clapping as they waltzed the giddiness out of his system. 

    These intervals were few and far between but still nothing came to a head until Adrien had been five for a couple of weeks. 

    The first sound Nathalie registered when she walked in the door that morning was Adrien wailing. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she dropped her purse and rushed through the house until she found him in his bed, sobbing his little heart out. After she had picked him up and began lightly bouncing him (she _had_ bought the one parenting book when he was two), she heard the yelling voices in the next room, louder than she’d ever heard before. There was a suspiciously loud crashing sound and then a shattering noise. 

    “What the hell!?” She heard M. Agreste bellow. 

    Then came his wife’s forceful rejoinder, “You knew I never wanted any of this!” 

    “Even if we weren’t ready at least I’m willing to be a parent!” 

    A crass laugh. “A WHAT now? You mean an absentee figurehead who occasionally glances at a security feed to make sure his son isn’t dead?!” 

    “I have to earn us money! That’s how we live in this giant house and you get to go out on all those expensive trips with your friends! And where is Adrien during those times again?! Completely unattended if I remember correctly.” 

    “NO! That’s a lie! Mlle. Sancoeur watches him!” 

    Nathalie winced at the mention of her own name. 

    “That’s not what Nathalie is here for! It’s unfair to push your parental duties off on someone else!” 

    Nathalie had to agree with that one. 

    “Look who’s talking!” 

    And that one too, unfortunately. 

    An exasperated sigh from M. Agreste. “Look, instead of screaming at me you might have wanted to just ask me to look after him.” 

    “I tried that! You didn’t listen.” 

    “When?! When was that?” 

    “Oh I don’t know just a ton of times!”

    “Ha! You don’t know.” 

    “I didn’t say that!” 

    It looked like M. Agreste was going to win this one. 

    Nathalie bounced Adrien a little faster and a dark silence fell. 

    “You clearly don’t give a damn about Adrien. I’ve never loved you but I do love _him_ and if you’re not willing to care for him at my side, I’ll just go find someone who will.” 

    Nathalie’s head shot up. Mme. Agreste had always been prone to dirty shots a little faster than her husband but this was a bit much. 

    M. Agreste’s voice, when it came, was low, and if Nathalie wasn’t mistaken, a little scared. 

    “What does that mean?” 

    “Exactly what you think, _Gabriel_. I’m leaving, to go find a man whose heart isn’t made of ice. Feel free to file for divorce.” She paused. “You jackass. You’ll probably never love again aFTER ME, and guess what?! It’ll serve you right!”

    Her footsteps marched towards the door but just as Nathalie heard it creak open M. Agreste spoke, almost in a whisper. 

    “Have you been cheating on me?” 

    This time the exasperated sigh came from Mme. Agreste. 

    “You stupid, stupid man. It certainly doesn’t cost 45,000 euros to go on a vacation with my friends.” 

    Then the door opened completely and Nathalie caught her last glimpse of Mme. Agreste, her head held high, fury tight in her eyes, her sharp heels stabbing down the hallway tile. 

    Nathalie froze for several minutes after she heard the front door close. She had no idea what to do. There wasn’t really protocol for your employer’s wife leaving him. 

    And with Mme. Agreste’s absence came silence, not even a peep out of Adrien. It was still early and as far as Nathalie knew, she and M. Agreste were the only adults in the mansion. She couldn’t just pretend she didn’t hear anything. Even in the middle of an emotion filled argument, surely both parents had noticed that Adrien had stopped crying. 

    Hesitantly, still cradling a shocked-silent Adrien in her arms, she stepped into the hallway, cursing how loud her heels were. She tiptoed into the next room, afraid of what she’d see. Before she took a step in a voice came out. 

    “Be careful where you step, Nathalie, there’s a lot of glass on the carpet.” 

    She gulped and came in carefully. Her employer was sitting on the floor, his back against his desk and one hand over his eyes. A few feet from him lay a toppled end table and the shards of a large vase. 

    Nathalie picked her way over to him. She brushed some glass away from the spot right next to him and sat in a similar position, her knees drawn up but far enough away to create a small cocoon for Adrien’s body. Adrien’s head flopped over on her shoulder and his red-rimmed eyes opened a silver. 

    “Pa-pa?” He asked. Gabriel took a shuddering breath and reached both arms out, curling his son tightly into them. 

    “Papa,” Adrien said again, a lot happier but still exhausted from crying. Gabriel buried his face in his son’s curls. Nathalie had to lay a hand on his back when his shoulders began to shake. 

    “Papa? Papa no cry.” His little hands fisted in his father’s suit and Nathalie saw just a glimpse of his tear-stained face before he took another deep breath and rested his forehead against his son’s. 

    “Papa no cry. Lookie. Lookie Papa, Nat is here. You never cry when Nat is here.” 

    One of M. Agreste’s blue, blue eyes focused on Nathalie. 

    “Yes, yes she is isn’t she?” He reached a hand towards her but hesitated, waiting for her reaction. Nathalie may not have been great at expressing emotion but she was quite skilled at reading it. And reacting to it. 

    Without pausing to let her sense of propriety stop her, Nathalie moved closer and wrapped both arms around her employer’s back, his face wedged over her shoulder and Adrien resting against the other side of her neck. The hand he had stretched out landed on the middle of her back and the three of them took a quarter of an hour to just breathe, punctuated by little interjections from Adrien, who was getting bored with all this holding and no movement. 

    Disentangling was a little awkward but they took it like adults, or as adult as they could, considering they’d been sitting like children. 

    Also, the moment had quickly become one that stripped away the trapping of adulthood to reveal eighteen to be just another number. Nathalie was twenty-three. Her employer was only four years older. 

    Adrien was thoroughly riled up by now and ran off to his room to get some toys. Nathalie chanced a glance at M. Agreste, who was doing his best to smooth out his wrinkled vest. 

    “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

    It was the million euro question. He sighed. 

    “I’m not sure,” was what he finally went with. 

    He was still compulsively straightening his clothes, fingers trembling as they attempted to re-tie his tie. After about 30 seconds Nathalie had had enough. 

    “Let me,” she offered, taking ahold of the ends of his tie and quickly making the required movements. 

    He caught her hand when she finished and for a moment she feared she had overstepped her bounds until he turned her palm up and she saw the oozing cut. 

    “I told you to be careful,” he admonished softly. 

    “I must have put my hand down when I sat.” 

    He nodded stiffly. “Let’s get you cleaned up before Adrien sees.” 

    He kept a lightly hold on her wrist and led her out of the office, locking the door behind him so Adrien wouldn’t get in. They relocated to the kitchen. M. Agreste pulled out a first aid kit and wrapped her hand up in an almost clinical fashion. 

    “Do you have official training, sir?” 

    He cocked his head to one side and the edge of his mouth twitched, the first sight of happiness she’d seen on him that day. 

    “I am a certified lifeguard.” When her eyes spelled out her confusion he elaborated. “The skill-set is always handy to be up to date on, CPR and the like.” 

    She nodded. Adrien came running in, skidding on the slick floor. 

    “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you gonna come play or not?” 

    Nathalie glanced over at M. Agreste. He nodded at Adrien. 

    “Sure, son, we’ll be along in…a few minutes. Why don’t you meet us in the playroom.” 

    Adrien took off. M. Agreste braced his hands on the counter behind him. He couldn’t meet her eyes. 

    “Thank you for comforting me, back there. I know neither Eleta nor I have been at all fair to you in your duties or in our treatment of you as a person and I’d like to apologize for that.” 

    “Oh no, Sir, yes, you may have had me take care of Adrien occasionally but treat me unfairly as a person? I feel you’ve treated me very fairly.” 

    The look on M. Agreste’s face when he glanced up was haggard. Nathalie began to list off her fingers. 

    “You have never raised your voice against me in anger, you pay me on time and fully, you’ve granted me asylum in your home if the weather is too poor for me to go home, you were even considerate enough to address me by my first name because you knew I didn’t like my last name.” 

    She took a breath. 

    “Sir, you have been more than fair to me.” 

    Finally, a glimmer, just a tiny one, of light came back into M. Agreste’s eyes. He seemed to struggle with finding a reply for a moment, settling on an emphatic, “Thank you, Nathalie.” 

    She nodded, biting her lower lip to keep from crying. 

    “It’s nothing, sir.” 

    He cracked a weak smile. 

    “How about we go play with Adrien? The company shouldn’t burn too quickly in my absence.” 

    Nathalie matched his tentative expression. 

    “Yes, let’s.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Note to self: hey, self, don’t get into another fandom. You’re super behind on your 20 WIPs in other fandoms already. Or at least choose a pairing with a lot of fic so you won’t feel compelled to write your own…huh…not listening to me? Ok then you’ll just have to suffer. Go! Have your rarepair! See if I care. *sobs quietly*
> 
> Random stuffs:
> 
> Eleta- French name meaning chosen. For a miraculous user I thought it was fitting.  
> Nathalie doesn’t like her last name because Sancoeur can be split into two French words: sans and coeur, translating to heartless or literally without heart.  
> I’m using French abbreviations for the beginning of names:  
> Mlle- mademoiselle, used for unmarried women, the English equivalent is Miss.  
> Mme- madame, used for married women, the English equivalent is Mrs.  
> M- monsieur, used for both married and unmarried men, the English equivalent is Mr. 
> 
> P.S. @poppicock, lol u thought I was done gifting u Nathalie fics.
> 
>  
> 
> Update: I can't really have this in my queue of things to do right now so I'm letting it stay a one-shot for now. I'll let everyone know if I re-open it, but for now it isn't going to be updated.


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